


I Will Always Come For You

by bioticblackops



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 23:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8820130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticblackops/pseuds/bioticblackops
Summary: Feyre wakes up from a nightmare that is not her own so she goes to save its owner from his growing panic.
(written for a prompt on Tumblr that requested a pre-mate Feysand nightmare scenario)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another Prompt: "could you please do a fic set before feyre knew that she was mates w rhys, and feyre sees rhys getting a nightmare (iknow thats oddly specific sorry)"

Feyre woke up to the sound of her neck breaking. For a moment, she was back Under the Mountain, feeling her heart stop and her life end. It took her a few long seconds to realize her heart was not only beating but thrumming in her ribcage like it was trying to flee its prison. She was breathing. It was ragged but she was breathing. She was alive. And she was not Under the Mountain. 

Feyre blinked against the darkness of her room, willing her body to calm down. It had just been a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Still, even telling herself that, it didn't help. The desperation and panic still lingered but something about it didn't feel right. Something felt ... different. She hardly dreamt about her own neck breaking and it never shook her this bad. With everything that had happened Under the Mountain, her death was one of the lesser horrors she'd encountered. So why did it ...

Feyre!

Feyre's head snapped up and toward the door. She knew she hadn't heard her name being screamed, not with her ears at least. And with that she realized it wasn't her nightmare that had woken her up. She could now feel the panic creep down the bond, unfiltered anguish and pain. 

It wasn't even a conscious thought to leave the bed but she found herself at the door before she was aware of it. Darkness lingered in the hallway like mist on a forest's floor in the early hours of a cold day. Feyre didn't hesitate as she ran towards her destination.

It wasn't the first time Rhys' nightmares had woken her, neither was it the first time they'd lured her out of her bed and towards his. But this time, it was different. The house wasn't shuddering and moaning like the last time, but something in her did. Something in her felt like it was breaking but in a way that told her it wasn't just a part of her, not completely anyway.

Feyre couldn't see a thing. The darkness was impenetrable and cold, nothing at all like the dark Rhys usually wrapped himself in when they were in Velaris. It felt like the darkness of dying things, the darkness that came after the last breath. After a breaking neck. Her throat tightened as she tried to keep her own panic at bay.

It's just a nightmare. He's just having a nightmare. You just need to wake him up and everything will be alright.

She couldn't see Rhys when she opened his door and stepped through but by now she knew how to get there, if not in the way something in her longed to. A small part she tried to ignore that had no room here, not right now. Not ever. She pushed the thought down and pushed against the dark wall trying to keep her away from Rhysand. It was like the adamant she sometimes wrapped around her mind to keep him out, just this time it felt very real and it was keeping her away from him. Even the bond was nothing but a mere flicker, a dying candle in a sea of blackness.

"Rhysand," Feyre rasped, her voice hardly more than a whisper. "Rhysand, wake up!"

She pushed against the dark, willed it to accept her, to realize she was carrying a part of it inside of herself and that she belonged here. The impenetrable force shuddered under her fingers.

Let me through, let me through, let me-

The darkness accepted her so suddenly that she almost fell on her face. She caught herself in the last moment. She was closer to the bed than she had realized, her legs already brushing the cold wood. Her body still acted without her consciousness, climbing the bed and feeling for the hard body she knew was here somewhere. It didn't take long until her fingers met cold skin that quivered under the first brush of her touch. 

Feyre crawled closer, carefully trailing upwards to find his shoulders and shake him while still saying his name over and over again. 

"Wake up, Rhysand. It's a nightmare. It's just a nightmare. I'm here. I'm Feyre. I'm here." 

Like a mantra she repeated the same sentences but she got no reaction from him, neither did her attempt to shake him awake. Rhys' skin was cool as stone, he was not moving apart from a violent shiver rocking his body. From past experiences, Feyre knew that hitting him wouldn't do any good but she couldn't leave him trapped in this nightmare he was drowning in. 

Gently, she clasped her shaking hands around his face, pulling him towards her. It was a bit of a struggle but in the end, she managed to pull Rhysand's upper body to hers. She pressed his face into the hollow of her throat, his ear against her chest so he could hear the harsh beating of her heart. 

Feyre closed her eyes and tried to will herself to calmness, because that was what Rhys needed. He needed her to be calm and in control to help him find his way back. She concentrated on her breathing, tried to slow it down and with it the beat of her heart. While she did so, she never stopped whispering to him. His name, her name, that they were alive, that they were home. Her fingers were woven in his hair, gingerly stroking his scalp while others stroking over his cheek. He was cold, so, so cold. Feyre tried not to think about it. Instead, she thought about her darkness mingling with his, brushing against it like a cat, trying to lure him back from the brink with softness instead of force. 

"Come back to me, Rhys. Come back. It's alright. Everything is alright. We are alive."

Suddenly, a forceful shudder shook him and he began to fight against her. Trapped in that moment between sleep and wakefulness, his instincts took over. The flicker she'd felt through the bond turned into black fire but Feyre fought against it and didn't let go. She held onto Rhys while her darkness wrapped itself around him like a blanket made of starlight.

"It's me, Rhys. Feyre. It's Feyre. Everything is alright. It's alright. I'm here. I'm Feyre. I'm here."

"Feyre?" He grated, the thick darkness around them falling away. Feyre still didn't let go. She just hummed and continued stroking the impossibly soft blue-black hair that looked like a bit of living darkness under her fingers.

Rhys took a shuddering breath but finally, finally relaxed against her, burying his face deeper into the hollow of her throat.

"I ... I dreamed-"

"I know," Feyre interrupted, gently. "I know."

He leant away from her, just enough to look her in the face. His eyes were wide, his pupils swallowing the purple around them as he stared at her. 

"You came," he whispered as if he couldn't believe it. As if he still thought it was a miracle even after all those times she'd waltzed into his room to bring him back from their shared nightmares.

"Of course I did. You've done the same for me."

He swallowed thickly but nodded, making no further move to get away from her. So she continued stroking his cheek and hair, letting him rest against her. For once, his wings were nowhere to be seen and while she found herself missing them, it made it easier to hold him. 

As the silence stretched, her eyes unwittingly travelled down his torso, before quickly snapping to his face again. She felt her cheeks burning and was glad that the moon and the stars outside were their only source of light.

"Although," Feyre said, after clearing her throat. "Maybe you should start wearing pants to bed if this continues."

Rhys blinked and for the first time, he realized he was completely naked while still leaning against her. A small smirk played over his lips that almost managed to reach his eyes.

"Take it as a thank you for you continuing to save me, Feyre darling."

Feyre huffed a laugh but didn't say anything. Instead, she dragged one of the blankets over his lower body. 

"Killjoy."

"Next time I'll leave you be."

"No, you won't," he said, voice more serious than she'd expected.

She looked down at him, brushing an errant strand of hair out of his face. "No. I won't."

For a few heartbeats, they just stared at each other, neither moving nor speaking. With the nightmare gone, her own tiredness came back in full force.

"I should-"

"Stay," interrupted Rhys. Feyre's brows shot up. He cleared his throat. "Please stay."

As she opened her mouth to object, she noticed she didn't want to leave. She knew it was stupid and irresponsible and highly improper but ... she didn't want to leave.

"Get some pants, please?" She sighed. "Or at least some underthings?"

"Everything for you, Feyre darling."

She averted her eyes as Rhys climbed out of bed to find something to wear. A bit helpless, she tried to find a way to settle in his big bed that would leave the proper amount of distance between them without making this more awkward than necessary. She forgot to factor in Rhysand though because he simply plopped down in front of her and pulled her towards his warm and broad chest.

"Is that okay?" He asked, feeling her the reluctance in her body. Just as he was about to pull away, Feyre slung her arm around his hip, holding him in place.

"Just for tonight." She wasn't sure if she was saying it to Rhys or to herself.

"Just for tonight," he agreed, the smile in his voice betraying him. She'd deal with it tomorrow. Sleep was trying to pull her under faster than she liked, giving her no chance to analyze their situation or his words.

"Feyre?" Rhys asked softly after some time.

"Hm?"

"Thank you for coming."

"I will always come for you, Rhysand."

The last thing Feyre felt before a soft kind of darkness claimed her, was Rhysand's breath hitch as he pulled her a bit closer to him.


End file.
